


Work it Out

by Prim_the_Amazing



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Culture, F/F, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Mild Sexual Content, POV Rose Lalonde, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, rose and kanaya talk and figure relationship shit out: the fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:18:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5638771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you have an amazing girlfriend. She’s beautiful and badass, calm and composed, fashionable and friendly. You enjoy her company, and she yours. You taught her how to knit, and she you how to sew.</p><p>You have an incredible girlfriend… but it’s complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work it Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tormentedThrenodist (Pantamalion)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantamalion/gifts).



Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you have an amazing girlfriend. She’s beautiful and badass, calm and composed, fashionable and friendly. You enjoy her company, and she yours. You taught her how to knit, and she you how to sew.

You have an incredible girlfriend… but it’s complicated.

-

Your relationship has progressed to the point where it doesn’t even occur to you to knock as you enter her block. You thought you’d make some small talk, sit with her in companionable silence as you read your book and she made work on whatever her current project was, maybe get up to some… mischief.

Your incredible girlfriend has her face in her hands, breathing carefully even breaths.

“Kanaya?” you say, concerned. She starts, straightens her posture, sitting at her desk, placing her hands in her lap. It is only then that she turns around and smiles at you. You are relieved to see that she at least wasn’t crying.

“Rose,” she greets you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, approaching her.

“It’s nothing serious.” She shakes her head at you, smile still present, voice steady. You don’t buy it.

“You may always talk with me, you know that right?” you ask, and place what you hope is a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Kanaya stiffens, wide eyes darting back and forth between your hand and face, smile suddenly uncomfortably frozen. What? She closes her eyes, inhales, and then opens them again, purposefully relaxing before she gently takes your hand with hers and moves it away from her shoulder.

“Rose,” she says oh so gently, “We talked about this, remember? Boundaries. Quadrants.”

  
Oh. Right. Matesprits aren’t supposed to have feelings jams.

“I apologize,” you say, hand slipping away from between hers, curling up into a fist at your side. That’s not what you want to say. You want to say a lot of other things. You want to say ‘how am I supposed to be a good girlfriend if you won’t let me support you?’ You want to say ‘what would you do if you found me, upset?’ You’ve already said those things, and all it did was make sure you and Kanaya had your first fight, an arduous experience you are in no hurry to relive if you can help it. You’d dearly missed being on good terms with her.

So instead you just turn around and walk out, book under your arm.

You knock the next time.

-

Kanaya is holed up in her block, in the throes of what you’ve gathered is the troll equivalent of the common cold. This is the perfect opportunity.

The two of you always make it a point to eat together at least once a day. So there’s your excuse. You throw together a sandwich for yourself, and then much more carefully make a second troll version sandwich. You carry the two plates through the hallways, and with some careful maneuvering you open the door without dropping anything. You don’t knock. You wouldn’t want to make your dear Kanaya have to stand up and get the door for you anyways.

You walk in and her eyes flutter open, and she looks at you, groggy. She isn’t wearing makeup, lips a matte black that doesn’t come from lipstick, short hair going in every direction, not brushed and unmanaged. She can’t bring herself to control her full body glow, and her nose is rubbed a bright green.

She is so adorably pitiful that you can barely stand it. You wonder if the emotion is anything like what she feels for you, romantically.

You smile warmly, and hold up the plates in answer to her questioning eyes. “You missed our meal together, Kanaya.”

She blinks. “I—I’m sorry, Rose, I assumed—I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” you say mildly. You truly don’t mind. You’re just using this as an excuse. “Here you go.”

You put the plate on her lap, and go and get her desk chair to sit on so that you can face each other. She’s haltingly sitting up, and you consider for a moment if it would be pushing it to help her prop up the pillows behind her back so that she can more comfortably sit. You compromise by grabbing her plate, making sure that it doesn’t fall over the edge as the blankets shift with Kanaya’s movements. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to avoid a mess, after all.

“Thank you,” Kanaya says, flushed with the effort, but settled now.

“Any time,” you say. Inwardly, you crow with victory as the two of you start your meal. You’re taking care of your girlfriend while she’s sick, without her being squicked out by it. You just need to be subtle about it, casual.

You can do this. You can make this work.

-

You notice that Kanaya lets Karkat ask her if she’s okay without making it weird. She’ll actually answer him honestly, and then she’ll blush or lose control of her glow. He’ll quickly follow suit, but with less glowing and more swearing.

It’s pretty clear what’s going on there.

You don’t mind. You don’t. It’s not like you’ll find them unclothed in her room, moving beneath the sheets. That quadrant doesn’t do that. It’s like a very dear friendship. A friendship that allows for things that your relationship with her doesn’t. A friendship that is in fact not thought of as a friendship, but decidedly romantic. Fuck it, you mind. But you knew what you were getting into. And you know that she loves you just the same, doesn’t love the two of you the same way.

And. You don’t like the idea of her alone in her block, face in her hands with no one around that she’s comfortable with comforting her. If he can take care of her where you can’t then… you’re all for it.

So you start slyly inviting him over to your dates, cunningly nudging them together. Maybe not so very slyly and cunningly though, considering the flushed glares she shoots you. Whatever, you know that she appreciates it.

She seems happier after a while, tension that you hadn’t even noticed vanishing. The remaining bitter reluctance you had vanishes just like her tension when you notice that. It’s all worth it.

-

Even with your eyes closed, leaning into the kiss, you can sense her glow. You’re flattered. She’s flustered. You’re going further than the two of you ever have.

“You,” she pants, parting, “have been meddling. You meddlesome, meddling meddler.”

“Kanaya, please stop, the word is quickly losing its meaning.”

She huffs, but it has no venom—“Ngh!” You wince.

“Rose?” Kanaya asks, alarmed.

“Claws, claws,” you say, leaning into her, away from her claws that are buried just barely into your shoulders, tiny beads of blood welling up. She hurriedly lets go of you.

“Rose—“

“It’s alright, I’ve had worse papercuts. I just don’t like it rough, all right?”

“That was rough?” Kanaya asks, baffled. Ah, you know that tone. It’s the tone the both of you have become oh so familiar with, when something one of you says doesn’t even properly register with the other, a completely unfamiliar idea. Polyamory? Romantic pity? Platonic hugs? What sort of nonsense? 

“I think,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “That we’re experiencing a bit of culture clash again. From your species point of view I guess I could say that humans like very gentle sex. And from my point of view you like it rough.”

“Ah,” she says, chagrined. “Very well then. Rose Lalonde, prepare yourself to be handled with velvet gloves. Erotic velvet gloves.”

You giggle helplessly, but you make sure to bite with a little bit more force when you give her hickeys.

The two of you end up doing a lot more talking when the underwear come off.

-

It’s complicated… but you make it work, and your relationship is the better for it.


End file.
